Page 165 - [1]Harry Potter and the Philosopher-s Stone
P. 165

Ron grunted in his sleep. Should Harry wake him? Something held him back
               -- his father's cloak -- he felt that this time -- the first time -- he
               wanted to use it alone.


               He crept out of the dormitory, down the stairs, across the common room,
               and climbed through the portrait hole.


               "Who's there?" squawked the Fat Lady. Harry said nothing. He walked
               quickly down the corridor.


               Where should he go? He stopped, his heart racing, and thought. And then
               it came to him. The Restricted Section in the library. He'd be able to
               read as long as he liked, as long as it took to find out who Flamel was.
               He set off, drawing the invisibility cloak tight around him as he
               walked.


               The library was pitch-black and very eerie. Harry lit a lamp to see his
               way along the rows of books. The lamp looked as if it was floating along
               in midair, and even though Harry could feel his arm supporting it, the
               sight gave him the creeps.


               The Restricted Section was right at the back of the library. Step ping
               carefully over the rope that separated these books from the rest of the
               library, he held up his lamp to read the titles.


               They didn't tell him much. Their peeling, faded gold letters spelled
               words in languages Harry couldn't understand. Some had no title at all.
               One book had a dark stain on it that looked horribly like blood. The
               hairs on the back of Harry's neck prickled. Maybe he was imagining it,
               maybe not, but he thought a faint whispering was coming from the books,
               as though they knew someone was there who shouldn't be.


               He had to start somewhere. Setting the lamp down carefully on the floor,
               he looked along the bottom shelf for an interestinglooking book. A large
               black and silver volume caught his eye. He pulled it out with
               difficulty, because it was very heavy, and, balancing it on his knee,
               let it fall open.


               A piercing, bloodcurdling shriek split the silence -- the book was
               screaming! Harry snapped it shut, but the shriek went on and on, one
               high, unbroken, earsplitting note. He stumbled backward and knocked over
               his lamp, which went out at once. Panicking, he heard footsteps coming




                                                            164
   160   161   162   163   164   165   166   167   168   169   170